Maddie Please - The Summer of Second Chances - The laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

As I drove into Superfine’s car park I wondered why I wasn’t cooking any more. I loved cooking; I even enjoyed watching other people cooking on television programmes yet now I was living on tins of soup and cheese toasties. Perhaps I should make more of an effort? Maybe then I would ask Bryn over for a meal by way of a thank you. He would like that. I didn’t suppose he had much company either. He seemed to live on his own. I wondered if his arm had healed up OK? Probably; after all it was three weeks ago and I hadn’t seen any ambulances pulling up outside.

‘Back again, my duck?’ Maureen said as she scanned my shopping, weighing my fruit and vegetables and frowning at the scale.

By then I knew all about Kyle, her son in the Navy, and Himself’s (her husband’s) bad back, and more than I wanted to know about her ‘various veins’.

‘I’m always running out of milk,’ I said.

Her face brightened. ‘Got a cat, have you?’

‘Well no—’

‘My cat gets through pints of the stuff, although Himself says it’s not good for ’em. I says to him, well if you’m so clever you tell Fluffy, ’cos I’m not.’

She scanned a packet of chocolate cookies and looked at them admiringly.

‘They looks nice. I couldn’t have them though. I’m supposed to be losing weight and if I had them in the cupboard I wouldn’t get no peace until I’d eaten ’em all. That’s fourteen pounds twenty. Having a busy day, are you?’

I handed over a twenty-pound note. ‘Well I’ve not lived here long. I’m doing some decorating. For a friend.’

Maureen rolled her eyes. ‘You can come and do mine when you’re finished! I’ve been waiting for Himself to paint the front room for years but it’s still not done. The paint will be solid in the tin by the time he gets the lid off. And there’s your change, me duck.’

I hesitated. There was no one behind me waiting to be served.

‘Are there any jobs going here, do you know? It’s just…well you know.’

Maureen sucked her cheeks in. ‘No, I don’t think so. You’d have to ask at the so-called Help Desk. Not that they will be much help if they can avoid it. Too busy gossiping and complaining and messing about with rotas. But you could ask.’

‘Thanks.’

I wandered past the Help Desk where two women in purple suits were busy tapping in barcodes and sighing as they tried to organise a refund for a harassed-looking woman with two toddlers who were rolling on the floor kicking each other. Perhaps another day.

Three days later I noticed the stable door into the kitchen was open again and my heart gave a little leap. Bryn was back from wherever he had disappeared to.

I went upstairs to change into a clean T-shirt, slick on some red lip-gloss and run a comb through my hair. After fiddling about for a few moments I tied my hair back and wiped off the lip-gloss. Then I changed into another shirt and faffed about wondering how many buttons to do up or undo. Then I added some blusher and a smudge of grey eye shadow. And a pink lip-gloss.

I took a look at myself in the bathroom mirror and rolled my eyes. For heaven’s sake, my brown hair needed cutting, my blue eyes under the badly smeared eye shadow looked tired. More than that, I looked like a right clown. What on earth was I playing at? I just needed the man next door to come and help me move a bath, it didn’t matter what colour my mouth was.

On my way to Bryn’s front door I noticed a car parked around the side of his house. A red, soft top sports something and I wondered how he would fit his long legs into that. I went and knocked on the door.

After a moment I heard someone moving about inside. I hesitated, my hand raised, wondering if I should knock again and then the door opened. Not Bryn at all but a glorious redhead in tight jeans and a baggy boyfriend jumper that was in danger of slipping off her tanned shoulder.

‘Hi,’ she said.

She looked down at me from atop her long legs and gave a dazzling smile that spoke of several thousand pounds and many hours at the orthodontist.

‘I’m Bonnie, you must be the caterer.’

Bonnie? She certainly was. But caterer? As if. And who was she? Sister? Girlfriend? Wife?

‘Bonnie?’ I said.

She laughed and tossed her because-I’m-worth-it hair about.

‘Short for Bonita. Which is a ghastly name isn’t it? Do come in,’ she said.

Mesmerised, I followed her pert bottom down the hallway and into the kitchen. I had assumed this house was a mirror image of mine but it was bigger. There was a conservatory tacked onto the side and some sort of extension or office in the garden beyond, half hidden by some bushes. I suppose I should have told Bonnie I wasn’t the caterer but at this stage I was far too busy being nosey.

I caught a glimpse of a sitting room painted in dark red with floor to ceiling bookcases, a beautiful grandfather clock in the hall and then she took me into the kitchen. It was rather old fashioned with a huge built-in dresser and under the window a Belfast sink with a red gingham curtain underneath it.

‘So it’s going to be a surprise party,’ Bonnie said, leaning back against a newish and familiar-looking granite worktop (probably Sahara Sparkle), ‘for about twenty. OK?’

‘Well I’m not actually…’

She flicked her hair back. ‘Maybe twenty-five.’

‘Yes, but…’

‘Do you like vegetarians?’

‘I couldn’t eat a whole one,’ I said.

Bonnie frowned rather attractively. ‘Sorry?’

‘Look I think there has been some misunderstanding.’

She blinked a couple of times and looked at me, waiting for me to explain.

‘I was hoping to see Bryn. Is he around?’

‘Well no, not until tonight, who are you then?’ Her tone was suddenly rather frosty.

‘I’m Charlotte – Lottie from next door.’ I pointed in the direction of my cottage.

And who are you? And why are you throwing a surprise party?

She suddenly looked very annoyed. It was as though someone had flicked a switch. ‘You’re not the caterer? Not from Delicioso?’

‘No.’

Bonnie gave an extravagant sigh and rolled her large, hazel eyes.

‘Next door? Oh I see. Jeez. Why didn’t you say? I didn’t realise…I knew…oh never mind. She was supposed to be here half an hour ago.’

Bonnie did what anyone would have done when they found themselves in this situation and checked her phone.

‘Hmm I’ve missed a call. Bloody crap reception here.’

She listened to a message and sighed.

‘Not coming?’

‘No.’ Her pretty mouth tightened in annoyance. ‘Are you sure you’re not a caterer?’

‘Positive.’

She gnawed at a manicured thumbnail. ‘It’s Bryn’s birthday soon; I thought I’d throw him a surprise party.’

‘Does he like surprise parties?’

I’d bet a month’s non-existent salary he didn’t.

‘No, he hates them, but I think they’re fun.’ Bonnie waved her phone again. ‘They can’t get here until after the weekend, and that’s no good.’

I thought hard about what I could say to get her to tell me what her relationship was to Bryn but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t make me sound like a stalker.

‘You don’t know anyone I could ring do you?’

I shook my head. ‘Sorry, I’ve haven’t lived here long.’

Bonnie pouted. ‘Delicioso were my last hope. It’s frigging impossible round here; it’s like the bloody dark ages. I keep telling him to move.’

‘Have you tried the Internet?’

Bonnie shot me a withering look. ‘Or extra-super-slow-narrow-band as we prefer to call it? You must be joking.’

‘Well you could try ringing around.’ I made a move to the door. ‘I just called to see if Bryn’s arm was OK. He had a nasty cut…’ I hesitated as I saw her eyes glaze over.